Chapter 8

"Vice Squad, please," said Tim into the telephone. "I want to speak with Lieutenant Kramer."

"I'm sorry," said the cool, efficient voice at the other end of the line, "but Lieutenant Kramer isn't in at the moment. May I take a message?"

Damn, thought Tim, what a time to be on a coffee break. "Yes," he added, "I'll leave a message. Tell him that I have information concerning Jay Snyder, lots of information, and that I'll be waiting for him in the bar at the Ambassador Hotel. Tell him it's urgent; his wife might be in trouble. Make sure he gets that message, will you? Tell it to him just like I told it to you."

"Certainly, sir," said the receptionist. "Now would you care to leave your name?"

"No," said Tim, "I wouldn't."

Tim fingered his drink nervously. Where was that guy, he thought, glancing at his watch for at least the hundredth time. Just like a cop, never around when you needed him--probably he was out peeking into toilet stalls at the MacArthur Park John.

Tim looked in the mirror behind the bar, saw a short, stocky red-haired man in a business suit standing by the doorway, peering around the room. Tim waited until the man caught his eyes in the mirror, then slowly nodded his head. The man walked over to the bar, sat down on the stool next to Tim. "Bartender," he said, "beer, please."

"Lieutenant Kramer?" said Tim.

"That's right." He turned to look Tim over, surprised that he was speaking to such a young man; he seemed little older than a kid. "You're the one who left me the message?"

Tim nodded.

"Well, what have you got for me?"

"I work for Jay Snyder," Tim began. "I'm his driver. I'm not very high up in the organization, but I keep my ears open and I remember what I hear. I've learned a lot about how Jay runs his operation: the names of most of his girls, names and descriptions of the guys who work for him, how he signs his girls up in the first place, what he does to keep them quiet. I know enough to put Snyder behind bars for a long time."

Mike doubted that this was true. He'd heard the same line many times before, usually from young, scared kids like this one who wanted some sort of small deal for themselves. More often than not, their information turned out to be vague and inconclusive; and very rarely were they willing to testify in court. But as a cop Mike felt obligated to follow up every possible lead, to investigate every possible angle, particularly where someone like Jay Snyder was concerned. Besides, this kid had mentioned something about his wife.

"Well," said Mike, "start talking."

"Not so fast," said Tim, taking a swallow of his drink. "I want to make a deal first."

Here it comes, thought Mike. "What sort of deal?" be said.

"I want to know what sort of immunity you can give me."

"Uh-huh, thought Mike. Another pickpocket or tout trying to bluff his way out of a petty theft charge. Christ, there were so many of them, and they were such a damned waste of time. Well, he thought, I'm here; may as well listen to what the kid's got to say. "I can't offer you immunity from the law," he said. "Only the D.A. can do that."

Tim looked at him, fear in his eyes. "I don't want immunity from the law," he said. "I haven't done anything wrong, unless driving someone else's car is a crime these days. What I want is immunity from Jay Snyder."

So that was it--the kid had gotten in over his head, gotten scared, and now he wants out Mike looked at him closely. He seemed like a nice kid, maybe a kid from a poor family, a kid who'd made one mistake too many, and now he was beginning to wake up. Mike felt a sudden pang of pity for him. "All right," he said, "I'll give you all the police protection I can."

"That's not enough," said Tim. "You don't know Snyder. He's a vicious son of a bitch, and he has ways of getting at people that the cops wouldn't even dream of. I need to know that you're going to put Snyder and all his buddies behind bars for a long, long time. See," he said, his voice softening, "there's this girl, she works for him too, and I want to make sure she comes out of it OK."

This kid is really sincere, Mike thought. He's gone and fallen in love with some whore, and now he's trying to whitewash his whole life. The power of a woman! Still, if the kid knows as much as he says he does...